


An Odd Arrangement

by DaughterOfElmStreet



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade, Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines (Video Game), World of Darkness (Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Androgyny, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Smut, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Mutual Pining, Oh gosh I'm the first one with this relationship tag aaaaaahhhhh so much pressure, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Rape/Non-con, Possibly Triggering to Gender Dysphoria, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recovery, Trans Character, Tzimisce, V5 Timeline, Vaginal Sex, Vicissitude (Flesh crafting) will happen so proceed with caution, gangrel - Freeform, gender fluid, sexual healing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:47:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27926983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterOfElmStreet/pseuds/DaughterOfElmStreet
Summary: After centuries of fighting, Beckett and Sascha Vykos are at least on cordial terms with one another. But their relationship has gotten far more complex than either could have seen coming, and neither will mention what is slowly becoming obvious. Will their fling fizzle out or has something irreplaceable been established by accident?What I believe is the first BeckettXVykos fanfic on a03!
Relationships: Beckett (Vampire: The Masquerade)/Sascha Vykos
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	An Odd Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

> I am incredibly excited to present this to you all! BeckettXSascha is a genuine ship that deserves much, much more attention and I am carrying the banner into the heart of the fandom battle! 
> 
> Not connected in any way to my other Beckett-centric story, The Gangrel and The Runaway (which I will be updating soon!).
> 
> Just a quick warning: 
> 
> THIS STORY CONTAINS VERY HEAVY TOPICS SUCH AS GENDER DYSPHORY, PTSD, AND NON-EXPLICIT DESCRIPTIONS OF PAST EXPERIENCES OF SEXUAL ASSAULT. 
> 
> Please, please refrain from and/or stop reading if these topics may be triggering and/or too much for you to handle at the current time. If you do become triggered reading this or for any other reason in which you may not feel safe, I highly encourage you to visit the following: https://www.wannatalkaboutit.com/
> 
> Yes I know it's through Netflix of all things, but it has a lot of good resources on there to help people in a tough spot!
> 
> Please be safe and know you are loved!
> 
> Okay here we go!

> _“I turn you over and look in your eyes,_
> 
> _Promise you that this is forever_
> 
> _Or till one of us dies.”_
> 
> \- From _Written in Blood_ by She Wants Revenge.

Beckett came out of the day‘s sleep to the sound of rain falling against the roof of the penthouse. He turned his head over to face the ceiling and savored the still darkness of the bedroom. _Pit, pat, pit-pat, pit-pat, pit, pat…_ the rain went. 

Like a long-forgotten heartbeat warming his being...the sound of the winter shower sent a flicker through his damned soul.

It made his Beast grumble in annoyance at indulging in such romantic pensive thoughts. But for once...Beckett could not bring himself to care about his other half’s pride, for he had not been this comfortable in decades. 

Sleeping within the earth and feeding on rats was all well and good, but it simply did not compare to all of this. The king-sized bed the Gangrel was in was just the right balance of sturdiness and plushness with satin and velveteen covers. The ornately shaped windows were automated to be sealed with a light-proof pane of black glass at 5 am sharp. And sustenance was only the finest known to Kindred, not to mention often reheated with human body heat rather than a microwave which made it so enormously better it was hard to go back afterwards.

This arrangement was undeniably one with many, many creature comforts, and those were definitely a factor that kept him coming back here. But it was far from the only one, or even the main one that drew him in so. 

That was a far more complex matter.

On paper, this was still a purely diplomatic situation; a simple give and take scenario. 

Beckett gave something he had or went and found something to give, and he was rewarded with something he needed. 

An amiable and straightforward arrangement it had been initially until things had been...complicated by some unforeseen events.

Those events had resulted in personal desire now existing alongside the diplomatic necessity of this arrangement. And neither Beckett nor his partner had been strong enough to resist the temptation. This was not an entirely unusual outcome for Kindred or mortals interacting so closely, so frequently...but there was one small detail that gravely complicated matters.

A detail that would undoubtedly turn quite a few heads should word get out about how Beckett was spending nearly half his time now. 

And the mocking sneers that would result if word got out alone could be enough to drive Beckett to frenzy or torpor or something worse…

 _If someone had told me just a year ago where I would be waking up tonight, I would have beaten them into torpor myself for making such a suggestion…_ the Gangrel mused as he painted shapes with his mind against the ceiling. _And now…now I’m unsure whether I would be angry at them in defense of my own pride or in defense of my bed partner’s…_

Yet despite the bizarreness, potential for humiliation, and probable danger he was inviting, Beckett still found himself returning again and again. 

_Am I entering a self-destructive period of my unlife? Perusing dangerous relationships for thrills?_ he wondered as the rain grew softer on the roof. _If that’s the case, then I am shockingly well preserved...at least for the time being._

His thoughts were broken when his bed partner stirred from their place on his chest, making a little sighing sound as consciousness returned to them. Their ivory complexion seemed to nearly glow in the darkness. They reclined on the velvet-covered pillow beside him, perfect upturned eyes fluttering open to gaze at him. They stared awhile before bringing a willowy hand to Beckett’s cheek. He leaned into it, savoring the contact. 

A small smile played on his partner’s thin lips. The sight made a bolt of joy shoot down Beckett’s spine, a content grumble escaping his throat.

_I must be on a path to my own doom if it brings me joy to make Sascha Vykos smile._

The Sabbat Priscus, his former sworn enemy, and deadly rival looked at him for a long time, as they did most nights when they woke up with Beckett beside them. Their expression betrayed nothing, as it usually did, but the Gangrel had hypothesized that they studied him out of surprise at him still being in their bed for another evening.

Frankly, he was just as surprised some nights. 

Then after a time, they asked, “Are you leaving tonight?” There was a slight waver in their husky, melodic voice. An anticipation, or fear perhaps, to know what Beckett’s answer would be.

The Noddist weighed his options. 

He could leave tonight, be off to whatever interesting lead Okulos had dug up for him or go tag along with Lucita or Anatole for a while or look to secure boons amongst leaders of the Camarilla or Anarchs...

...Or, he could stay a few more nights here, in this bizarre tucked away little world where his old archenemy became his lover and petty rivalry melted to a sort of hushed synergy that soothed his old, aching, world-weary soul. 

The world outside here would be bursting at the seams with Jyhad, intrigue, and under-table deals upon his return no matter how long he was away. It could all wait until Monday, at the very least. 

“No, I’ll stay the weekend,” he answered softly.

Sascha released a breath they had been holding as he spoke, seemingly relieved by his answer though they would never say so aloud. They both had to retain some of their pride in all this. 

So instead the Tzimsice’s limber arms snaked around him and held on tightly in an almost possessive fashion as their head came to rest over his unbeating heart once more, sliding slowly upwards till they rested against the crooked of his neck. They inhaled deeply against him there, undoubtedly breathing in his scent as they did so. Their fingernails glided over his sides, gently poking at his ribs, counting them all in a row on both halves of his body. 

Beckett retaliated with his own display: tucking the crown of their head under his chin and bringing his beast marked hands up to glide up their back and weave through their beautiful hair.

It was the same pale shade as their flesh and they now wore it loose most nights instead of coiled up high on their head in a braid reinforced with bones. Undone as it was now, it was smooth as silk and cascaded halfway down their back. 

Beckett loved touching it, yet was still stunned that he was _allowed_ to touch it. Or even be permitted to see it like this, undone and so very natural. 

Or as natural as Sascha ever allowed themselves to be…

In truth, they had ceased putting on such theatrical appearances over the development of this current incarnation of their arrangement. They were still unearthly gorgeous of course but in a more human way than monstrous. A more, _inviting_ way that made Beckett more comfortable with letting his pants hit the floor. Though he was guilty of being more than a bit curious about whether or not they were capable of intercourse in their war form...though thankfully what remained of his common sense had won out and prevented him from asking. 

But his common sense required nourishment to continue to keep him out of trouble. The Gangrel moved to unhook Sascha from his torso so he could go fetch some blood for them both, but he was quickly forced back against the pillows with unexpected strength. Their spindly but firm hands pinned his wrists to either side of his head as their legs straddled his hips like an anchor, effectively immobilizing the Gangrel in a matter of seconds.

“Going somewhere?” Vykos asked in a whisper against his earlobe. “I do not recall giving you permission to remove yourself from the bed. Nor did you even seek it. I cannot reward such insolence, now can I?” A sharp, cold tongue traced his jawline all the way to his chin. 

They sat up on top of Beckett’s chest, their mouth curled into a fiendishly playful grin. Their hazel eyes glimmered in the darkness, green and amber brown like a wild forest. Beckett felt his unneeded breath hitch at their sudden change in mood. But this was common with Sascha; one moment a refined noble and the next a ravenous beast. 

“Please, Sascha I only meant to-”

But Beckett’s words did not please, for next thing he knew one of Sascha’s hands had coiled his own long hair into their fists and were squeezing it tight. The Noddist found himself whimpering at the tension against his scalp before he could stop himself. His thirst was making him unable to put up much resistance, not that he would have anyway. 

When Sascha Vykos, an elder and far more experienced vampire wanted to be dominant, there was little Beckett could do but submit. 

“Want to try that again, sweet doggie?” they snickered with a narrowing gaze that reignited very human instincts within the Gangrel. His hips twitched forward and his Beast was sending blood to his cock already. 

Beckett twisted in their grasp, looking up submissively. “Please, mistress…” he whined in such a tone he hardly had allowed himself to ever use throughout his unlife. “I merely wish to refresh us both with some vitae. Forgive me!” Had it been anyone else, he would have grabbed onto their body while he begged. 

But consent was not just a courtesy when getting sexual with Sascha Vykos, it was a rule to be obeyed with religious fervor. 

They touched him or showed him where they wished to be touched. 

Never the other way around. **Ever**.

That was something he had known before they ever started this and always kept it in mind ever in the wildest throes of the passion they shared.

“Of course, my pet. Of course.” The Tzimisce purred. “You must earn your forgiveness though…”

With that, the pale flesh of Sascha’s body began to pulse and squirm with a transformation. The change was warm to the touch, as the Gangrel could feel since they were still pressed firmly on his lower stomach, flesh swimming with blood being sent expertly to all the right places. Beckett bit back a moan that welled up in his throat as he saw them become more feminine in form. Pear-shaped breasts swelled on their chest and their lower abdomen curved sharply downwards as the makings of the female sex bloomed like a lotus. It was enough to make him want to spend the Blush-of-life on drooling. The Tzimisce grinned slyly at him as they released his hair. They began to move their fingers down the center of his body, sharp fingernails teasing pain while what blood Beckett had remaining was racing downwards alongside them, making his until then flaccid cock heavy with want. 

“Like what you see?” Sascha teased playfully, hazel eyes gaining a sort of reflective quality they always had when they were aroused. 

“Is that even a question?” Beckett muttered, struggling to form words as desire clouded his mind. 

“It is, and your mistress will not ask it twice,” they said as one of their hands moved up to hold up one of their newly formed breasts and the other brushed against the dark hair above his manhood. 

Beckett gave a low growl of impatience but gave in to their request. “You are the most handsome and beautiful thing any Cainite could wake up to,” he said gushingly. “An Adonis or Aphrodite given the Embrace, depending on which you prefer, my mistress.” 

His tone was syrupy sweet and laced with sarcasm, but his words were true. No being he had ever laid eyes on, in his mortal life or now, could compare to Sascha Vykos. They were thick yet lithesome, shy yet commanding. And with these opposites at their disposal could encapture any creature for whatever business or pleasure they set their mind to.

It was as cripplingly terrifying as it was sensationally erotic. 

Now given proper tribute, the Tzimicse gave a small laugh and wrapped one hand around his swelling cock.

The other went to snatch one of his hands (which he had not realized he had been sinking through the sheets all the while) and brought it to their delightfully supple breast. It was soft and so very squeezable in Beckett’s grasp. They moaned as he rolled the nipple with his black claw-nails; they obviously had put quite a few nerve endings into the nub of flesh.

Meanwhile, they worked his cock with firm yet surprisingly gentle strokes and brought his other hand to their hip, which he gripped tightly. He grunted and keened at the surgeon-like precision of their touch, his fangs slipping from his gums and the Beast was roaring in his soul for more closeness. 

More touch. 

More flesh. 

More movement.

More anything.

Just to be closer...in any way. 

It was no longer a want, it was a _need_.

Thankfully it seemed that Sascha’s needs were similar, for just as he was about to verbalize his thoughts they lifted their glistening newly formed womanhood off on his lower stomach and hovered it right over his weeping tip.

He moved both his hands to their porcelain face, pulling them closer to his own. Sascha’s eyes were like hazel fire burning with the way his own bestial red gaze shone within them. 

They did not look away from him for a moment as they slid their tight, warm pussy down his length.

With every inch they took inside them, their moaning became steadily louder and their bright eyes grew wider. Beckett ran his thumb along their lower lip and snarled in satisfaction at the delicious friction embracing his organ. They knew by now just how to shape themselves...all the right ridges and curves to place and where, where to rub and where to squeeze…

It was the best sex Beckett had ever had. Including other Tzimisce he had slept with.

Vykos was screaming like an animal by the time he was buried to the hilt in them, their arms wrapping around him like snakes and pulling him into a long, wet, wild kiss. 

It was unclear which of them started moving first, or if it really mattered at this point. The thrusts were so in tandem it became nearly impossible to tell which was leading and which was following. A well-rehearsed dance at this point...

They rolled over each other several times, snarling and hissing like animals fighting over a carcass...only they were the meat the other was desperately after.

Beckett had them lifted up against the headboard at one point, making Sascha let out a high pitch shriek while he slammed against their sweet spot again and again.

Sascha cut their fingertips open and fingered him anally at another juncture, making Beckett howl like he was trying to contact another of his lineage from miles away.

By the time they came, or rather the first time they were coherent enough to realize they had, they drew blood during their kissing while their bodies writhed and leaked, bursting with ecstasy. They switched it between their mouths, savoring the mixed flavor of one another but never daring to swallow. As open and exposed as they were at this moment, they both were still far too paranoid to risk anything like a blood bond.

Centuries of rivalry tended to make trust hard to come by between Kindred...and yet here they were...fucking one another’s brains out for the tenth time that week.

When it was over, the bed was a mess.

The sheets were destroyed and the covers were on the floor. Claw imprints were on the headboard and both vampires had love marks on them. Sascha spat out the mouthful of the shared blood they had been swapping all throughout their encounter into a goblet they had on the nightstand, then looked over their scarred shoulder and grinned.

“You may leave the bed now,” they said as they stood, tall and graceful even in the haze of post-sex, and slipped on a dark violet-colored bathrobe they had on a nearby dresser. “Take a shower if you wish, then go see what the help has brought us for supper.” 

With that, they disappeared into their private bathroom off to the right of the suite. Beckett laid back among the ruined bedding awhile longer, listening to the resumed rain and coming down from the high of having just had ravenous sex with his former archenemy. It only took a few minutes for the bitterness of reality to sink in though.

 _What the hell am I doing?_ He asked himself for the umpteenth time as he stood to collect some clean clothes from his suitcase and went to the guest bathroom, connecting to the room he was meant to actually be spending his daytime sleep in. _Why do I keep letting myself do this?_

Possible scenarios played out in the Gangrel’s mind as he washed off the blood sweat and slick…

What if others found out they were sleeping together?

Would he lose allies? Would he gain allies? But would he still have even a shred of respect left either way?

What would Lucita say? Or Anatole? Or Okulos? Or his former adoptive sire…

What would Sascha do if others knew? Would they deny it? Flaunt it? Which was worse?

...would they call this off...?

His Beast growled, now doubly unhappy with hunger and social anxiety. Beckett sighed as he dried himself and went to collect the blood that had been procured for them tonight. He knew the way around their penthouse better than some of his own havens now…

The penthouse was the seventh floor of this apartment complex in a suburb just outside Washington DC. The other apartments were all on the surface regular kine homes, but upon closer inspection were actually treasure troves of Sabbat documents and Vykos’ own personal collection of curiosities. The basement floor and the connected underground storerooms were where they practiced their more...bloody arts. 

Beckett had only been down there once by accident and had never been the same since. 

But then little had been as it seemed of late…

Sascha’s penthouse was sleek and tasteful in style. Black furnishings with white walls and marble floors with purple and golden accents. A remnant of their days in Byzantium, or so Beckett had figured. Priceless artifacts and paintings adorned the walls and the smell of incense and vitae always filled in the air. Carved ivory, obsidian, and ruby adorned many of the door handles and the light fixtures shone like crystals deep in the earth. The appliances, even the unused ones such as the kitchen stove, were all top of the line and gleaming from constant cleaning and care. 

The refrigerator had several bags of A+ and two premium bottles of O- inside tonight. Beckett helped himself to a baggie of the quickly microwaved A+ before beginning the more delicate process of warming the bottles in a specialty heating pack made for mulled wine.

As he sat sipping the still slightly coagulated blood and waiting for the main meal to warm, the Gangrel’s mind began to wander back to how he had begun having week-long liaisons with the very Kindred who had one offered rewards to any who could bring in bits and pieces of his body.

 _Before how things are tonight...feels like a century ago._ Beckett mused.

In truth, it had all started a mere two years ago...  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Wew! There is now official BeckettXSascha Vykos material on a03! 
> 
> The next nine or so chapters of the story will be a flashback to how exactly Beckett and Sascha came to be in this current arrangement of there's and we'll delve deeper into both their backstories! When I actually get around to updating it...well we'll play that by ear!
> 
> Feel free to review/give constructive criticism in the comments!


End file.
